In My Blood
by TrAiNoFhOpE
Summary: A small boy, abandoned with nothing but memories is mixed into a magical world where anything could happen. All he wants is his father, but he'll have to work to get to him. Carlisle/Harry, Father/Son. Vampires/Magic. AU.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N I don't exactly know where this is going yet... so it would be nice if you guys could give me your opinions. I hope you like this, and please review.**

**Song: In My Blood – Black Stone Cherry**

The day was hot and humid. The sun wasn't out. In fact, many occupants of the 'House of Peterson', orphanage, had their faces turned towards the sky. Begging, praying – one child had resorted to a rain dance, for any amount of water to leak from the clouds. They hadn't had a clean glass of water since a week before. Maybe, if they prayed, they'd have something to drink. Something fresh, and clear, and _soothing_ on their sore throats.

One boy in particular, small and pathetic, a loner to the rest of the children, sat uncomfortably in a small bog of cracked dirt and rocks. Insects didn't notice his shallow breathing and mistook him for another landmark. God knew there were many interesting ones around. They crawled up his scarce clothing, exploring his arms and his legs. He didn't bother flicking them away – they were a constant. Whether he scared them and watched them scurry, or reduced them to a fine goo, more always came back. Why bother removing something that brought him small comfort anyway?

As he sat, he thought. He definitely wasn't missing a crayon from a 24 pack, as some had assumed. He was slowly recalling his finer moments of his life. He liked to close his eyes and imagine that it hadn't changed. He was tortured physically as he forced himself to remember. He was tortured mentally; why would he want to remember these things? The truth was: they did keep him sane.

Words: "_No matter what happens, I'll always be there, Amo." _

Actions: _A man held him tight, smothering him with the scent of sterility and a barely noticeable formaldehyde. "Don't scare me like that. I can't lose you. Not now, not ever." The hug sent warmth through his limbs and he promised that he would never, ever do it again. Just to be held like that one more time._

His eyes opened slowly and he peered up towards the clouds. A rain drop fell, and he caught it in his palm. He was no longer thirsty. Slowly, to not dis-form the small picture of beauty; a magnifying glass of possibilities and mistakes, he let it trail down one finger, and fall to the ground. It sat there, unchanging, until the dirt soaked it up hungrily. There was one tiny patch of soil softened from his generosity.

He shifted forward and placed one finger over the ground. He could feel Mother Earth thank him. The petite boy closed his eyes, opened them and watched the disappointed faces of his peers as the clouds began to thin. With a determined shiver up his spine, he murmured, and the ground began to shift. The one, small raindrop morphed into many more. The rocks and the topsoil eroded into itself and fell into nothingness. A lake appeared where he sat, and he was drenched from head to toe with cold water.

A grin split his face in two. The happiness he shared with the dozens of other children, warmed him and he felt an equivalent of air.

"Thank you!" He whispered enthusiastically. He laughed, something he'd only dared to do in the privacy of the shadows.

He could do a lot of things, this boy could. And he knew it. He knew he wasn't normal. And no one ever questioned it. He felt he was where he was supposed to be. Why he was there? He didn't know. But he was making a difference. He was quite likely saving lives. He could live without constant happiness.

One day, he could feel, everything would change. He would find the person that he missed the most – his father, but until then. This was where he was meant to be. This was where he would stay. But not for much longer.

**A/N Thanks for reading, please review.**

**-TrAiNoFhOpE**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N I changed the summary, in case you were wondering. I pretty much know where this story's gonna go. Would still like some ideas though. So far, I've added Snape as a major character; I have an OC for sure. Let me know if you see any mistakes. Please review, and please enjoy. **

"**Memory is the way of holding onto the things you love, the things you are, the things you never want to lose." - From the television show _The Wonder Years._**

A letter came. It was simple, hand-written – at least from what they could see on the outside, small, but yet thick. Yes, yes, it all seemed normal enough; but there was one strange thing they knew for certain... _where_ was this 'Hogwarts'? Was it a school, really? There was a law, obviously, that prohibited others from reading someone's post, but, God, it was hard for the children – and even some of the caretakers – to resist.

"Harry!" A shrill voice shouted, echoing up the large and winding staircases. The tall building barely stood steady on its hind. Hallways and hallways, and doors and doors. The creaking flooring and the cracks in the wall. It certainly wasn't home, but for most that resided in its innards, it was the closest that they had. "Mail for you!"

A lone door opened slowly, cautiously; it almost seemed that he was pushed away by the others for his room was alone. One hallway, one door. Dark wood in some places, patched in others; the ceiling dropped pieces as it opened and closed. Even with the softest touch it would groan horribly and rock on its hinges.

"Coming," he croaked just loudly enough for the woman to hear him. "I'm coming," he repeated.

He waddled down the staircase and smiled with uncertainty, taking the letter from the aggravated woman with a whispered word of thanks. The eyes of other children followed – quite literally – his every move. The holes they bore into his back left him bare and naked.

An aggressive boy, assertive to the fullest definition, slyly snuck up and grabbed Harry's hand behind him. He pulled his fingers at an odd angle. With a satisfying crunch of the joints, Harry dropped his letter; his _only_ letter, mind you. "No, don't!" Harry protested, using his uninjured hand to snatch at the envelope unsuccessfully.

Harry's good hand rolled into a fist at his side. "What are you going to do, faggot?" The boy sneered, showing his yellowed and slimy teeth as he imposed intimidation onto the helpless boy. "Daddy gonna come and save you?" He laughed, supplying his own answer for his allegory question. He must have thought it was hilarious, because he didn't stop laughing.

He looked worried. He kept laughing.

"Give it back," Harry demanded. His voice held steel. The boy standing opposite the wizard didn't know what to do. "Now."

The boy nodded quickly, uncontrollably, and grasped at his throat as the letter flittered to the floor shakily. Unforgotten. The laughs turned to coughs, and the coughs – gasps. Every other child stared at the scene. It seemed they would know better by now than to mess with the 'freak', but they would never learn.

Harry stooped down with a glare and grabbed the letter. Walking away, he heard threats aimed towards him and his health. But he couldn't bring himself to care.

He cradled his hand as he closed the door to his separate room quietly. He slid to the floor and closed his eyes – the letter could wait. He breathed in, then out; in, out. He calmed, and couldn't stop the sudden urge to rip open the note.

_Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry_

_Mr. Harry Cullen_

_The Orphanage on the Hill_

_Little Whinging, Surrey_

_Dear Mr. Harry Potter - Cullen,_

_We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment. Term begins on September 1. We await your owl by no later than July 31._

_Yours Sincerely, _

_Minerva McGonagall,_

_Deputy Headmistress._

There was more than just the list of necessary equipment inside the swollen envelope. A separate note was hidden behind the rest of the parchment.

_Mr. Cullen,_

_I will be over to retrieve you on the first of July for your equipment. This is assuming you accept the invitation to Hogwarts. _

_Severus Snape,_

_Potions Master (professor) at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry._

His lips thinned, then curved. Snape.

Severus, his uncle for all intents and purposes, was another he would always remember. How could he not? The man was the best of friends with his father, and at one time, his mother too.

"_**Harry!" An aggravated voice rejoiced, trying to catch a toddler unwilling to be captured. "Boy," he began with a quivering voice – with what emotion? Your guess would be as good as any. "You get your little-" **_

"_**Severus," he was scolded from the opposite room. He sighed, then turned and almost tripped over his nephew's small feet.**_

"_**Uncle Sev'rus, were you asking for me?"**_

"_**You little-" He stopped himself and grabbed the boy around the waist with a growl, pulling him up into a large embrace. "bugger."**_

_**Harry inhaled his uncle's unique scent and giggled quietly. He was unwilling to get the man into trouble with either his father or his mother.**_

"_**You said bugger," Harry laughed almost silently.**_

"_**Don't you go-"**_

"_**Severus, don't make a trouble maker of my son."**_

"_**Stop interrupting me, woman!" Then the man turned to the boy in his arms, a sly grin plastered onto his face. "Would I make you a trouble maker?"**_

"_**Yes, uncle Sev'rus, you would."**_

Harry leaned against the door behind him, his back arching over the hinges connecting it to the wall and to the only thing keeping it stable. It was his favorite place to sit. Though, how silly was that? It was comfortable; it was a half-and-half. It was like him..

He pulled the unpersonalized note from his uncle up to his chest, resting it over his heart. He missed his family; he was insecure, unhappy, and confused. But he could get a little bit closer.

All he would have to do was wait. Wait for two more weeks. Until July first.

He could do that.

**A/N I hope you liked it, and sorry again for the long wait! I didn't know what to write. But I'm pretty sure I have a solid idea now. So, review; it's the only thing that keeps me writing.**


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